


a history of blisters

by shesthesmoke



Series: spend my life as a loaded gun [4]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Bonding!, Gen, Light Angst, alex echoing greg, all things considered, flint is concussed, flint should really see a therapist, for the sibling solidarity vibes, forrest is only in one part, however that does not qualify him to play therapist, i'm sure alex is already seeing a therapist, idk if i mentioned this in the fic but flint watches a lot of architecture documentaries, not like heavy emotional consequences, so he's staying at alex's house, the emotional consequences of this, they're both rather mature about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:40:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25619776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shesthesmoke/pseuds/shesthesmoke
Summary: Alex and Kyle had agreed that in light of Flint’s moderate-bordering-on-severe concussion and emergent supervillain tendencies, it would probably be best if he stayed with someone for at least a week after checking out of the hospital. Alex just hadn’t had time to think about if he was in the right headspace to be that someone. Too late now.title from This Is Your Life by The Killers
Relationships: Alex Manes & Flint Manes, Forrest Long/Alex Manes
Series: spend my life as a loaded gun [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1806151
Comments: 6
Kudos: 28





	a history of blisters

**Author's Note:**

> shout out to anyone who has been following this series (and also anyone who's new)!

\- i -

Alex pauses at his front door. Flint’s taking forever to get out of the car, but he’s not about to rush him. 

He and Kyle had agreed that in light of Flint’s moderate-bordering-on-severe concussion and emergent supervillain tendencies, it would probably be best if he stayed with someone for at least a week after checking out of the hospital. Alex just hadn’t had time to think about if he was in the right headspace to be that someone. Too late now. 

Flint’s been surprisingly non combative so far, but that's definitely more from fatigue than any sort of personal growth. He looks like a goddamn cliche with those sunglasses he refuses to take off, but it doesn't matter.

Alex points out all of the important stuff in his house, finishing with the guest room, which Flint makes a beeline for, immediately turning off the lights and shutting the door. Well, that's that.

Alex hasn't had any of his family over until today, something he doesn't realize until Flint has been silently locked in his guest bedroom for four hours and they both should really be eating something soon. According to Michael, his dad had broken in while he'd been taken, but that didn't count. It can't count, this is his space. A compromise with himself that if he wasn't going to get out of Roswell for good, he'd at least be able to get away. This is a place just for him.

His brother is locked in his guest room. Alex has never been one to torture himself with worst case scenarios, but evidently there's a first time for everything. He finally gives in and lets himself run through them.

One: Flint's faking his level of incapacitation. Definitely not, he's not smart enough to fool Kyle and Kyle's fully convinced he's lucky to be alive, let alone as functional as he is. 

But say he's actually fine, at least he's not armed. Two: he gets past Alex into the kitchen and grabs a knife. Unlikely he'd use it given his inexplicable reluctance to actually use a gun point blank. Too messy. 

Three: Flint is here because he almost died, and he's hurt and probably scared, and that's all. Alex can't fault himself for assessing all possibilities, but objectively this one is the most likely.

Four: Flint has spent too much of his life focusing on getting rid of the aliens to not see it through, and nothing Alex says or does is going to change his mind. The one possibility Alex can't afford to entertain. 

He gets up to go ask Flint if he feels like pizza. 

\- ii -

They'll have to talk about the handprint at some point.

\- iii -

Alex doesn’t have people over without letting Flint know beforehand, just as a courtesy. At least, he tries to. The doorbell rings while Alex is getting dressed one morning. “He’s early, shit.”

“Who’s early?” Flint huffs through the door. 

This’ll be fun to explain. “My boyfriend. Can you let him in?”

A pause. Alex can imagine the face Flint is making, but he can’t see it. Finally, “I’m not offering him coffee.”

Well, it’s nicer than what Dad would’ve said. Every day that passes, Alex realizes that maybe the two of them were less inextricable from each other than he remembered. 

Bits and pieces of quiet conversation filter into Alex’s room as he finishes getting dressed, and then the first thing he notices as he walks out into the front room is the cup of coffee in Forrest’s hands. “Ready to go?” he asks. Forrest nods. 

Later, Flint will maintain that Forrest got the coffee himself without asking and Alex will maintain that it doesn’t actually matter. 

\- iv -

Sometimes it feels like the only thing Alex and Flint will ever have in common is the nightmares. It’s comforting, almost, that when Flint wakes up shaking he can ground himself focusing on the whistle of the teakettle and Alex knows he’s technically not alone from the glow of the TV in the front room leaking under his bedroom door. 

They don’t talk about it. They maintain a comfortable silence in the mornings because for the first two weeks after everything, the likelihood that either of them slept through the night is almost nonexistent. They understand, but they don’t talk. As easy as this gets, Alex knows that things don’t get better without talking. 

So the next time he bolts awake in the dark and sees the light under his door, he grabs his crutches and goes to the kitchen. He would be worried about the noise interrupting whatever Flint is watching, but a glance at the screen tells him that it’s on mute with closed captions. He boils the water and pours it into two mugs. He makes the first one the way he likes it, and then puts the second one on a tray with the bottle of honey and a handful of different tea bags (and a packet of hot chocolate mix just to be safe). He’s feeling pretty satisfied with himself until he realizes he really didn’t think through the mechanics. “Shit.”

He didn’t say it that loudly, or at least he didn’t mean to, but Flint jumps up anyway. “Are you alright?” 

He didn’t get this when they were kids because Flint had been a dick, and then he didn’t get this when he first lost his leg because Flint had been deployed somewhere else, but now it’s happening and it’s unmistakable: Flint is hovering. Well, he’s trying to while also trying to look like he isn’t. He clearly doesn’t have a lot of experience. And Alex, already tired out by the knowledge that the two hours of sleep he’s gotten are the two hours of sleep that he’s going to get tonight, is starting to regret everything. But the fact of the matter is: he does need help with the tray. 

Each of them only takes up a third of the couch. They leave the middle empty. Alex honestly can’t remember what he was going to say for a good fifteen minutes, so they just watch. 

“Are you alright, Flint?”

Flint doesn’t give any indication that he heard him until Alex is about to ask again. “I guess.”

Alex looks at him, but his face isn’t giving anything away. “You guess?” This isn’t working.

They sit and they watch.

“Mom called, she wants to come see us.” He wasn’t going to lead with that, but now it’s out. 

Flint snorts quietly.

"I said no." 

That puts Alex on the wrong end of Flint’s look of disgust, and for the first time since he was little, he seriously can’t figure out what he’s done wrong.

“Why?” Flint hisses. It sounds like an accusation. 

“Because I didn’t want to fucking fight with you about it, goddamn it!” Alex yells, a mistake he instantly recognizes. Flint turns off the TV and the room plunges into darkness. “Flint?” Nothing. “Flint.” Alex gets up and turns on the light so that they can at least see each other, but it doesn’t look like Flint is fully there.

“I know he’s the reason she didn’t come back, I don’t want to be the new reason now that he’s gone.” His voice sounds far away.

Alex can work with that. “I can call her back, you know. Tell her we actually do want to see her, or not you if you don’t. If you’re worried about it being awkward we can do it in public, maybe have Maria and Mimi tag along.”

“Fuck!” Flint spits, “why are you being so  _ fucking  _ reasonable about this?”

Alex shrugs. “I mean, it’s infrequent but I’ve kind of been talking to her for awhile. Neither of us ever brought up meeting until after the funeral, but…”

“No, all of it. Why am I here, Alex?”

Alex sighs. “Greg said not to tell you the last thing dad said before he died, but… I’m not your older brother so it’s not my job to protect you and honestly, I really don’t think he’s doing you any favors by keeping it from you.”

“Spit it out.”

“He said there weren’t any Manes men left,” Alex says, carefully watching Flint’s face for the fallout of that revelation. 

Flint is quiet for a second, then takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “I figured it would be something like that.”

“And I figured,” Alex replies, “that if we’re not Manes men and we’re not anything else, we should probably stick together until we figure out what we are.”

Flint looks at him like he’s an idiot. “I know what I am, Alex. I’m a soldier. You can go be whatever you want, but we’re not the same.”

Alex shakes his head. “I don’t want you to end up like he did, Flint. On the ground, with no one and nothing except the painful realization that everything you ever did was nothing at all.”

Flint closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I never understood you, you know. Not just the eyeliner, or the…”

“boys,” Alex supplies.

“Yeah. But the way you got it worse than any of us, and you still ended up nice.” 

“I don’t think this is me being nice,” Alex argues, “I think it’s me being stubborn.” Flint scoffs. “Do you think you’d be a nicer person?” Alex asks him, “if mom had stayed?”

Flint thinks about it. “It doesn’t matter. Being nice isn’t our job, Alex. Our job is doing what needs to be done.”

“It’s okay to miss her,” Alex says gently, “and it’s okay to be angry.”

“Stop it,” Flint grunts.

“Why?” Alex presses. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“Shut up!”

Alex knows he’s going too far, but he doesn’t know how to bring it back down. He’s such an idiot, this isn’t a conversation to start in the middle of the night. “I’m sorry,” he whispers as he gets up to leave. 

“Alex, wait.” He turns around to look at his brother. “I know what you’re trying to do.”

“Is this the part where you tell me it’s not going to work?” Alex asks. “Because I’ve considered that already, but taunting me about it isn't going to change my mind.”

“I was gonna ask why,” Flint says. “Dad's dead. You’re free now, why aren’t you and your alien friends celebrating, or whatever?”

Alex exhales. “You’re my brother, Flint. I won’t be free of him until you are.”

**Author's Note:**

> i swear i'll write about the handprint soon


End file.
